


Homecoming

by AsheTarasovich (natalieashe), Boffin1710, Dassandre



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Homecoming, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25488538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/AsheTarasovich, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/pseuds/Boffin1710, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dassandre/pseuds/Dassandre
Summary: “James comes back tonight, or have you forgotten?  He’ll have a coronary if he sees the place like this.”
Relationships: James Bond/Alec Trevelyan, James Bond/Q, James Bond/Q/Alec Trevelyan, Q/Alec Trevelyan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 176
Collections: 007 Fest Fancreations





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> This is our contribution to 007Fest's "Polyamory Day." We do hope you enjoy it. Please let us know.

“What day is it?” Alec muttered, shuffling towards the refrigerator, squinting in the sunlight that was streaming through the kitchen window. Q was hunched on a dining chair, one foot tucked beneath him, glaring myopically at his laptop. “And where are your glasses?”

Q shrugged and reached for a mug. Several others in various stages of cooling clinked together and an avalanche of papers slid to the floor. Q simply glanced at it, then back to his screen. “Tuesday…? Maybe Thursday.”

“Wait, what? Thursday?! Fuck, really?”

That got Q’s attention. Thursday meant his five day enforced leave courtesy of Mallory’s latest intervention was done. He could go back to work! He could…

“Don’t even think about it!” Alec was wide awake now and had read Q’s mind. He surveyed the devastation of the flat around them and swore again. “James comes back tonight, or have you forgotten? He’ll have a coronary if he sees the place like this.”

“Shite!” Q had forgotten. Their normally orderly and clean flat tended to get a tad neglected when James wasn’t around to constantly remind them to pick up after themselves. And he’d been gone more than a month this time… “We could set fire to it all?” he suggested, surveying the disaster that was their home.

“Nice try, but James would blame me. Off your arse, Quartermaster, we have a mission to handle.”

“Christ, why did we let it get this bad?!” Q moaned, carrying yet another armful of mugs and teacups to the kitchen. He wrinkled his nose at the cultures growing in two of them. They’d been at it an hour already and had barely made a dent in the sitting room to say nothing about the rest of the flat. He didn’t even want to consider the ensuite, the state of which was enough to scare away the most stalwart of dispositions. 

“We need to hire someone the next time James is out this long.” Alec’s voice was muffled behind the massive bin of laundry he carried to the laundry cubby off the kitchen. 

“Tried that.”

“When?” Alec dropped the bin to the floor and snagged a couple of Daz pods from the shelf above the machines to wash the countless pairs of pants and socks he’d unearthed from the bedroom. Huh. Explained why he had to buy new ones the other day.

“Year ago.” Q rinsed out yet another cup before stacking it in the dishwasher. “Cleaner got scared when he found two handguns and a K-BAR knife in the sofa cushions.”

“Oh yeah. Forgot about that.”

“Lad told his boss who then shared it with her colleagues ‘round London. No service will work for us now.”

“Bugger that.”

“Just how many pairs of boots and oxfords do you own, Q?” Alec was attempting to declutter the booby-trapped front entranceway that had become Q’s depository for footwear, instead of his cupboard. 

“Well, how many cookbooks and food magazines can one person read at the same time?” Q snarled back at him, juggling a stack of books that had grown to a mountain at Alec’s end of the sofa. 

“We so can not let this happen again the next time James is out,” Alec sighed as he dropped half the shoes he was trying to wrangle. 

“If something living underneath this sofa bites me, you have to promise to take me to A&E,” Q, on his hands and knees, muttered, trying to reach the accumulation under the sofa. “Ewwww... Oh My Fucking, God! There is something mushy and gross under here!” Q waved a gooey hand at Alec as he tried to keep from gagging. 

“He is so going to kill us, Q. We’re so bloody buggered. Doomed, bloody doomed.”

“Maybe I could get R to stall his return. Buy us some more time.” 

"Might as well wave a red flag. He'd be back here in double-quick time. Bathroom. Got to be your turn for that. Scrape all your scummy whiskers out of the sink."

Q pulled a face, but realising the dishwasher wasn't going to take any more in the current load, he set it away. 

Scummy whiskers were the least of Q's problems in the bathroom, and Alec smirked to himself as he stuffed items into cupboards. While they had squirted bleach around the toilet once in a while - they were lazy, not disgusting - the sink had received only a cursory swirl of water and toothpaste splashes dotted the mirror, countertop and taps. 

But he might have known Q would get his revenge. "Alec! These are yours! Why can't you just hang them up to dry?" Several armloads of damp and musty smelling towels were hurled out of the door, followed by a rain of empty cardboard toilet roll tubes. "And the sheets..."

"Making me wish I could resist your skinny arse. You want to get laid again this side of Christmas?" Alec growled, dragging the bedclothes free and adding them to the towel mountain.

He only just managed to duck the empty bottle of lube that came sailing toward his head from the bathroom.

“You were saying, arsehole?!” 

“Little shite!” He hauled up the second hill of laundry and huffed off to the cubby, kicking the bottle into the corner by the chest of drawers.

It took another half hour for Q to chip off the toothpaste from the porcelain and the mirrors -- damn stuff held to surfaces better than 90 percent of the adhesives his Q-Branch chemists had invented in the last three years -- before he could tackle the soap scum in the shower. By the time he was satisfied with the condition of the en suite, Q was hot, sweating, and quite frankly in a foul mood. 

A mood that went to bloody incendiary when he stepped into the sitting room to find Alec asleep on the sofa with the cats curled up on top of him.

“The absolute fuck?!”

Alec jumped awake at the shout that echoed off the exposed beams of the warehouse flat. The cats bolted, clawing him as they scattered. Alec leapt up from the sofa, a Sig he had pulled from between the cushions at the ready. He looked about for the threat but only saw Q before him with a withering ‘I am so bloody fucking done with this’ expression on his red, sweaty face. It was one Alec knew all too well.

Q’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he looked at Alec looking around for further danger that he might fight if only to save himself. “You took a nap?!” 

“Q …”

“You took a  _ nap _ .” Q’s voice was low. Icy. 

Alec was well and truly fucked.

“You... you....” It was truly a bad sign when Q couldn’t even articulate words enough to curse in any of the seven languages he spoke fluently. 

“I just dozed off for a moment,” Alec held up his hands in surrender, still clutching the Sig in one. 

“Don’t even think you are getting sex for at least a month.” Q threatened him stepping into Alec’s personal space, smacking him on the chest with a damp smelly flannel. 

“And when James gets here, I’m going to instantly tell him it’s all your fault. That I’ve been stranded in Q Branch and you destroyed the flat all on your own.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Watch me, Alec! Just watch me!” Alec cringed. If he knew anything about the Quartermaster, it was that he did not make threats idly and not back them up… eventually. If not now, someday he would seek vengeance. 

“Three hours Alec! His flight is due in three hours....” Q stomped back into the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher for the fourth time. 

Feeling mildly chastised, Alec decided Q needed some space if he had any hope of welcoming James back in the customary way. He could be a mean little shite when riled. He had vacuumed most of the flat by the time Q emerged from the kitchen.

"You missed a bit." Q pointed at the sofa. "Remember all the muck under there? I bet most of it is your toenails."

Alec bit back a retort and aggressively poked the hose under the cushions. His former furry companions scattered from their comfortable perch once more, this time heading for the peace of the bedroom. Q marched past on their tails, carrying fresh bed linen and kicked the door closed behind them.

Over the course of the next two hours, Alec heard various bangs and bumps and thumps from behind the door indicating Q was doing far more than changing the linens and that his mood had not improved as he did so. Alec focussed his attention on the kitchen: putting  _ all _ the dishes and cups away -- how in the fuck did they have so many -- cleaning and sanitising the sink and all the surfaces, sweeping the floor, and gathering the rubbish. Then he folded the laundry and stacked their clean pants and socks and towels in their bins, but he wasn’t about to venture past the shut bedroom door with them until Hurricane Quartermaster, a Category Five storm, blew itself out.

When Q eventually returned, he was damp from a shower and clothed in a pair of loose sleep trousers and one of James’ old Royal Navy hoodies -- Christ! He was going for ‘cuddly Q’ bonus points with James, the little shite -- and he dragged two full, cinched bin bags behind him.

“Take it all out to the skip,” he said cooly, gesturing to the other black bags scattered about the flat. “I’ll go water the herbs and hope like fuck they perk up a bit before James gets here.” He disappeared out onto the balcony where James’ beloved potted herb and vegetable garden looked far too limp for Alec’s liking. 

Alec came back in from the skip as Q was folding the last load of laundry, at least he hoped it was. How the fuck did they have so many dirty clothes? 

“Shower! You smell,” Q pointed a finger towards the bath. “And do not destroy the loo! I spent an eternity in there. I’ve seen barns cleaner than it was, even with livestock living in it.” 

Alec obediently stripped his dirty clothing off right there and then, throwing them directly into the wash, wandering off towards the shower completely starkers.

“Naked arse is not going to get you off my shite list! Not falling for it, Alec!” Q called after him. “Besides I just made the bed with clean sheets!”

Alec emerged a tad later, clad in a pair of pajama pants, still rubbing at his hair with a bath towel, just as Q’s phone pinged. 

Q grabbed it up and glanced quickly at it. “His plane just landed on home soil. R is going to try to stall him for a little longer if possible, but no guarantees. After being gone so long he won’t tolerate staying in Six long.”

“What have we forgotten, Q?” Alec tried ticking off in his head all the spots in the flat that had needed shovelling out and mentally noted to grab more bin bags on their next trip to Tesco. 

“God I hope we haven’t missed anything. He’ll never let us live it down.” Q sighed remembering the last time James had come back early from a mission and the flat had been an absolute disaster. 

"Bathroom?"

"Pristine. Fresh towels out. Found a dusty air freshener in the cupboard. Laundry?"

Alec grimaced at the pile of dry clothing and towels waiting to be folded and put away. "That lot. Two dozen shirts for the ironing service. I'll hide them in the back of the Range Rover and drop them off tomorrow. Other than that, I'm fairly sure I got it all. Cat shitter?"

"Alec!" Q, holding one of the fuzzy poop machines, covered its ears to protect its so not innocent sensibilities from Alec’s cursing. "Can we not? Anyway, it's done. Probably not to James' level of cleanliness, but it'll pass muster. I've asked them to puke in his shoes as a distraction."

"Excellent plan." Alec fussed the cat's velvety ears. Took a chance and fussed Q's hair. Q didn't pull away. "It will be good to have him back."

“Month is too long,” Q agreed. James had been running dark for most of the assignment, and Q missed his voice. And other things. Feeling suddenly needy and melancholy, Q tried not to press himself against Alec’s solid chest, but Alec was just so warm and now that Q wasn’t bustling about like a madman he realised he was a tad cold, and Alec’s arms wrapping around him were welcome. 

Fuzzy poop machine No. 1 dropped to the floor protesting his pinioning between two of his daddies, but neither Alec nor Q paid much attention. 

“Still angry with you,” Q murmured between kisses. “Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook just because … oh, yes, right there … what are you doing?” Alec had lowered him to the rug in front of the fireplace. 

“Warm-up.” Alec bit into the tender flesh behind Q’s ear. “Any extended work out needs one. Don’t want you to do yourself an injury when James gets home.”

“M’kay.” All thoughts of what they had forgotten to do — and they  _ had _ forgotten something — fled from Q’s brain when Alec slid his hand into Q’s pajama bottoms. 

Q’s hips bucked in response when Alec curled his hand around Q’s cock, swirling the pad of his thumb about the tip. “Get them off me!” He tugged at the elastic band of his trousers. 

Alec pulled them down, tossed them over his shoulder and nosed at Q’s groin, nibbling kisses around the base of his penis, soothing each nip with a swipe of his tongue. Something that always drove Q mad with lust.

“Don’t fucking tease me!” Q groaned, digging his hand into Alec’s shaggy hair, urging him to continue the teasing in spite of his plea. 

Alec continued to nibble and kiss and tease. He dipped his head and sucked one of Q’s bollocks into his mouth, swirling it about on his tongue before turning to the other. Q’s hand tightened in his hair whilst the other gripped his shoulder, hips rutting into the air, desperately seeking the friction that Alec was currently denying him.

“Alecccc...” Q whined and begged. “You’re such an arsehole...”

“Such sweet sentiments. Tell me what you want, Q?” Alec slowly crawled his way up the slim pale frame pinned underneath him, leaving small nipped marks as he went. 

“More.... th..th..there... “

And it wasn’t long before both of them had completely forgotten about their James induced cleaning frenzy. They were just too busy with more important things now.

They’d worry about what they’d missed later.

Mmmmm, yes… much later.

James dropped his go-bag just inside the entrance of the flat. Shoes were neatly arranged. Coats hung up. No trains of discarded clothing leaving a trail farther into the flat. No unsavoury smells met him. Was he in the right flat? Had Alec and Q even been home all month? He was sure he had seen the Range Rover parked out front. 

He turned the corner into the main living area. The rest of the flat was immaculate, and James started to wonder if he’d been transported to a different dimension. He was rounding the sofa, about to call out for Alec and Q and was barely able to contain a bark of laughter at what he saw. There were his lovers, sound asleep on the rug in front of the hearth. They were completely starkers and octopussed about each other, snoring lightly. Fuzzy Poop Machine No. 1 was asleep, curled up against Q’s side whilst No. 2 was perched atop Alec’s hip, doing the same.

It was clear that Q and Alec had got a head start on James’ homecoming celebration for they seemed to be a tad … sticky and wouldn’t  _ that  _ be fun to clean up when he woke them. But the longer he watched them snore and twitch and sigh in their sex-induced exhaustion, his amusement evolved into a warmer emotion that filled his chest. Though they were clasped in each other’s arms, James knew that there was always a place for him to be a part of that embrace. They were his family. Quartermaster, Double-O, two poop machines, and all.

This wasn’t just a homecoming. 

It was coming home.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> “If you have consumed what we have laboured and invested in to create, and if you have found any enjoyment in it, please tell us so that we can recharge enough to do this again.” ~ kdreeva via Tumblr


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